


night vigil

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Nipple Play, Outdoor Sex, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25262497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: While Ingrid’s mount is being treated for battle wounds, Petra waits with her and helps distract her from her worries.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Petra Macneary
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24
Collections: Anonymous





	night vigil

**Author's Note:**

> a pure shot of rare pair nipple indulgence

Some battles left Ingrid feeling invigorated, but this one? Their supply drop had been intercepted, they’d lost most of the food and armor, and on top of all that her mount had been injured.

Ingrid flew back into the pegasus keep utterly drained. The stablemaster attended to her mount right away, but Ingrid hung behind the stables, worried, busying herself clearing rubble to distract herself. 

“Is Guinevere going to be all right?” 

Ingrid jumped at the voice. She turned to find Petra behind her, eyes round with concern, and a rush of gratitude overcame her surprise. Petra and her beloved Wyvern Ariadne had been by Ingrid’s side the whole time, had struck down the enemy archer who had shot Guinevere. 

“I think so,” Ingrid said once her heart settled. “Thanks to you. She could have been much worse off if you hadn’t acted so quickly.”

“I know you would be doing the same for me,” said Petra. “You are always watching my back in the sky, it is a great comfort.”

Ingrid smiled. “I could say the same for you.” 

Few people understood Ingrid as well as Petra, and they’d gotten used to flying together. They often talked into the wee hours of the night—about their homes, their love of the sky, and of course, their mounts. More than once, Ingrid had caught herself staring at Petra’s profile in the sunrise or sunset, wishing she could run her fingers through Petra’s long, thick hair. 

Sometimes she thought she caught Petra gazing back. 

“Would you enjoy some company?” Petra asked, a small smile on her pretty lips, lips Ingrid had dreamed about more than propriety allowed. 

“I would,” said Ingrid. “I could use a distraction.”

Petra’s laugh flowed like music. “After that battle, so could I.”

They walked behind the stables in comfortable silence. Stars twinkled above them—the monastery was deceptively calm, as if Ingrid might close her eyes and find herself back in her academy days, worrying about finishing her assignments on time rather than winning a war. It was worth it, worth the stress and the strife to fight for her kingdom, but she still missed the carefree days of her youth. 

Petra’s soft voice broke through the stillness. “For a moment, I thought one of us might not be making it back to Garreg Mach.”

“Petra…” Ingrid met her eyes, and for the first time, she saw a reflection of her own fear. Petra always seemed unshakable, so focused on her mission, on returning to lead Brigid. How silly of Ingrid to forget that Petra was not immune to the terror of war. 

Petra sighed. “But I do not want to worry you.” 

“No, Petra, it’s all right,” said Ingrid. “I was afraid, too. I’m afraid every day, but I keep fighting, just like you.” 

Surprise looked lovely on Petra. Her eyebrows arched, her lips parted, and Ingrid’s heart started racing all over again. 

“I suppose it is only natural that you are afraid, too,” said Petra. “Sometimes I forget that you are human.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” It felt good to laugh, especially when Petra laughed with her. Moonlight turned Petra ethereal; the purple marks on her face seemed to glow, and so did her lips. Ingrid couldn’t stop staring at them. 

“May I kiss you?” Petra asked. 

Ingrid gasped. Mouth still open, she nodded, and Petra leaned in, so close Ingrid could feel the heat radiating from her body. 

Petra’s lips were even warmer, softer than Ingrid imagined, and oh, how many times she had imagined this very scene: kissing Petra in the moonlight behind the stables, a gentle slide of tongues, their bodies so very close. Ingrid indulged another fantasy, threading her fingers through Petra’s silky hair, and Petra wrapped her arms around Ingrid’s back, drawing her nearer still.

They’d both shed their armor, and Petra’s breasts brushed against Ingrid’s, sending shivers down her spine. Ingrid had dreamed of this, too. Petra’s breasts were so perfect: larger than her own and impossibly round. In Ingrid’s dreams, she could touch them, let them fill her hands, but it was too much to hope that now…

Petra rubbed against her, pressing their breasts together on purpose this time, Ingrid was sure of it, and moaned softly into the kiss. 

Ingrid’s heart pounded so hard Petra must have noticed, but after their confessions, Ingrid felt brave. Slowly, she mimicked Petra’s motions, pushing her chest forward, rolling her body as best she could. Her nipples were hardening under her clothes, the fabric almost chafing her skin as they moved together. 

And then the pressure and the kiss were gone. Ingrid’s skin was on fire, and when she opened her eyes, the sight before her set her heart ablaze. 

Petra was taking off her shirt. “I want to touch you,” she said.

Ingrid could only nod, fumbling with the fastenings of her own clothing. It was hard to do anything when Petra was right in front of her, opening her shirt. 

Nothing in the world would ever compare to the beauty of Petra’s bare breasts, Ingrid was certain. They were every bit as round and full as she had pictured, and her brown nipples were already hard, calling out to be touched, sucked, and loved. 

Ingrid felt tiny by contrast, but Petra wanted to touch her, and she shed her own shirt. The cold night air teased her nipples even harder. Ingrid didn’t have to look to know just how much smaller and paler they were, but Petra didn’t seem to care.

Mouth agape, Petra regarded them like a piece of fine art, at once shocking and delightful. Ingrid felt herself flush under that gaze. She never thought anyone would look at her breasts like that. 

The next thing she knew, Petra was kissing her again, and this time they were skin to skin. Petra’s nipples brushed her own as they held each other, the contact sending shivers down Ingrid’s spine every time they shifted, shivers that traveled lower, down between Ingrid’s legs. Petra’s breasts were so very soft, and Ingrid had to hold them.

Unable to resist, she pulled back and cupped both of Petra’s breasts. They filled her hands and then some, flesh bulging between her fingers as she squeezed. 

“Ingrid,” Petra whispered as Ingrid angled one nipple toward her own face. 

Ingrid dove in, wrapping her lips around the hard peak. The mild salt of sweat kissed her tongue as she sucked. Petra’s breast tasted amazing and felt incredible in Ingrid’s mouth. She flicked her tongue across the tip, back and forth until Petra gasped and Ingrid switched nipples, brushing her fingers over the wet one. 

“Ingrid,” Petra said again. “Ingrid, please let me.”

Ingrid looked up at Petra, mouth still adhered to her breast. 

“It is wonderful, but I would prefer touching yours,” Petra said.

Ingrid’s mouth dropped open and she almost fell off Petra’s breast. “You would?” 

Petra nodded. “Forgive my noticing, but your nipples are often hard while you’re training. They must be sensitive.”

It was a little embarrassing, but Petra was right. Ingrid’s nipples got hard when her shirt brushed against them, when someone looked at her too long, when it was cold, when it was hot… 

“I like it,” Petra finished. She leaned forward and framed Ingrid’s breasts with her hands, fingers curving to the shape of them. No flesh spilled over her fingers when she squeezed but Petra seemed to delight in their firmness. Smiling, she massaged them and the day’s tension slipped further away, forgotten when the pads of Petra’s thumbs brushed Ingrid’s nipples.

The moan she pulled from Ingrid’s throat was loud, too loud for how close they were to the stables, but she couldn’t help it. Ingrid had only touched herself before and this felt completely different, almost unbearable when Petra started to rub barely-there circles over the very tips. 

It was too much yet not enough and Ingrid craved more—more pressure and more Petra—and somehow, she managed to whisper, “More.”

Petra exhaled like she’d been waiting, and she pushed harder, bending Ingrid’s nipples this way and that to her whims. Ingrid bit back her cry as she felt a rush of wetness between her legs. She never got this wet this fast by herself, but now her underclothes clung to her cunt, and she arched her back.

Petra took the hint and started rolling Ingrid’s nipples between two fingers; the sensation spread from Ingrid’s breasts throughout her body. It was hotter than anything she’s felt before, and she wanted to touch Petra but Petra’s arms were in the way.

Then, Petra shifted closer, straddling Ingrid’s leg to close her lips over one breast. Ingrid threw her head back, unleashing a moan into the night. Now that Petra was sucking on her nipple, Ingrid was well past the point of caring.

At this angle, Petra’s breasts dangled down where Ingrid could reach them. She toyed with them in clumsy strokes, too far gone to do much else. Petra was utterly focused on Ingrid’s breasts, swirling her tongue over the tip while sucking it deeply, fingers pinching and twisting the other side. 

Ingrid’s cunt was throbbing now, soaked with her own juices as Petra squeezed and suckled her. There had to be something she could do for Petra before she lost control, and suddenly, it came to her. 

Ingrid raised her knee, pressing it to Petra’s cunt. Petra’s skirt had ridden up so only get thin underwear separated them, and Petra was just as wet as Ingrid. She began grinding against Ingrid’s knee, never letting up on Ingrid’s breasts. 

Heart racing, Ingrid let out moan after moan as Petra switched from one breast to the other. A gentle nip of one nipple made Ingrid scream, and suddenly her brain felt fuzzy and her cunt was pulsing and she was calling Petra’s name while Petra sucked and pulled her nipples as hard as Ingrid could stand.

Somehow, in the throes of the best orgasm of her life, Ingrid managed to grab one of Petra’s breasts and shove her knee up higher. Petra’s thighs closed around her leg and she let out a cry of her own, releasing Ingrid’s breasts to let her own orgasm take her. Together, they rode out the high, panting and rubbing against each other until the last of the waves rolled through their bodies.

The night felt calmer, stiller once they were sated, and Petra lifted her chin to look at Ingrid. Ingrid lowered her wet leg to the ground as she gazed back. 

It was Ingrid who kissed Petra this time, unhurried and confident. She felt like she was floating inside, like she couldn’t be sure this wasn’t a wonderful dream. 

Memories of her hurt pegasus reminded Ingrid it was real. Slowly, she pulled back. 

“I’d better check on Guinevere,” she told Petra.

Petra nodded and began to fix her clothes. “May I come with you?” she asked.

“I’d love that,” said Ingrid, warm affection surging within her chest. Petra was a true friend, perhaps more. There was no one she’d rather have by her side, and if Petra ever needed her, she’d be there, no matter what. After all, Petra was going to be the queen of Brigid one day, and every queen needed a loyal knight.

**Author's Note:**

> forever bitter that these two didn’t have a support, far too bitter for a plot


End file.
